


Never Make a Deal with Seifer

by StarfighterCross



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Canon, Deal, GFsWorkingDifferently, M/M, Romance, Sparring, Training Center, duel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarfighterCross/pseuds/StarfighterCross
Summary: After hiding away from Seifer because of the strange feelings he keeps provoking within himself, Squall realizes it might be time to push him away from his life. When Seifer arrives in the Training Center, requesting a duel with Squall, Squall decides to turn the duel into a deal.A deal for Seifer to stay away from him during the next semester.Did Squall make a mistake?
Relationships: Seifer Almasy/Squall Leonhart
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	Never Make a Deal with Seifer

**Author's Note:**

> Final Fantasy VIII was the first Final Fantasy game I played. This is why it holds a special place in my heart, and whenever I feel sad or in need of a hug, I return to this fandom. There’s a lot of great fan fictions here, and I wanted to contribute a story of my own. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to write a bigger one, thus I had to settle for a short story.
> 
> At first, this short story was supposed to be 1,000-word long, but since I have trouble writing short short stories, you have the same story plus 3,000 words more.
> 
> Enjoy, and see you in Balamb Garden!
> 
> StarfighterCross

Squall never needed anyone.

He could accomplish all of his tasks and tackle any challenges on his own. That fact had never changed over the years. What changed was, Squall chose not to be alone anymore. 

He enjoyed spending time with his friends, and he wasn’t ashamed of admitting it. Before the war, he had kept people at arm’s length, not wanting to get hurt or abandoned. After the war, however, he realized that he didn’t want to die alone with no happy memories of the life he had on Earth.

And happy memories, they were created when Squall was spending quality time with his teammates. His friends.

His family.

Needless to say that tonight was an exception.

Squall was reading his Weapons Monthly magazine, sipping his delectable cup of coffee at the coffee shop built within the Training Center. People around him might assume that he needed a break, wanting to spend his Friday night in solitude instead of joining his friends into town for a wild night of drinking.

The truth was, Squall was hiding. Not because he was afraid.

Squall was never afraid.

But because he felt confused, strange whenever he was hanging around _this_ person.

Squall flipped a page of his magazine, wondering how long it would take before his unusual feelings disappeared. One week? One month? Skipping his weekly outing with his friends once was fine. However, he couldn’t keep pretending he needed the extra hours to train, or someone would start noticing his suspicious behavior.

Squall had to find a solution.

At some point, he was bound to run into Seifer Almasy.

Squall stifled a yawn before glancing at his watch. It was already 11:30 p.m., and Squall had been training for three hours before sitting down to drink his coffee. Should Squall return to his dorm room before he crossed path with his group of friends in the hallway, Seifer having joined them since the war ended?

Negative. It was too early for them to be back at Garden. After all, the night was still young.

Squall wiped his sleeve over his forehead, the warmth and humidity of the Training Center getting to him. A vast jungle was growing inside the Training Center, offering a wide variety of trees, bushes, and flowers that were separated by water streams, dirt paths, and bridges.

A bird swooped in front of Squall, landing beside his table to eat the bread crumbs sprawled on the ground. Squall loved this coffee shop. Not only it was located within the jungle, but it also brewed the best cup of coffee and sold gourmet sandwiches. Comprised of a kitchenette and a counter built under a straw ceiling, this coffee shop was Squall’s favorite spot within Balamb Garden.

The bird spat the rock it just ate, taking off the moment it got spooked by the growls of a Torama lurking behind a bush. Cries of nocturnal animals mixed with shouts of monster replicas, which were magically created by the newly-acquired Guardian Force, broke the silence of the coffee shop where a worker was preparing coffee for a customer and where a student was munching on a sandwich while gazing into the distance. Dark circles under his eyes. Hands shaking. He definitely had detention with Quistis today.

The atmosphere felt calm and soothing, with the blazing torches dug in the dirt and the stars sparkling behind the glass ceiling. However, Squall couldn’t relax at all.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Seifer. About the way his heart sped every time he spent time with him.

What was wrong with him? Hadn’t he already forgiven Seifer for leaving Garden and joining Ultimecia? It had been a year already, and Seifer had been declared not guilty for his war crimes, crimes he had committed under compulsion.

He didn’t hate Seifer. That much he knew.

So what?

Squall sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. All these questions were giving him a headache. Maybe he should stay away from Seifer for a couple of days, just until he figured out why his emotions were all over the place when Seifer was involved.

Squall flipped another page, drinking his coffee.

Someone slouched on the chair in front of him. “Miss me?” asked Seifer, his voice playful.

Squall’s stomach knotted. “In your dreams,” he mumbled, pretending to read the page. Why wasn’t he in Balamb with the rest of the gang?

“We’re doing much more interesting things in my ROMANTIC dreams,” teased Seifer.

Squall’s heart skipped a beat, and he grunted. “Not interested.”

“Your lost, man.” Seifer smacked his hands behind his head and tilted his chair on two legs. “Why didn’t you come to Balamb tonight?”

“Training.”

“And you didn’t invite me? Ouch,” mocked Seifer, dropping the chair back on its four legs. “You hurt my feelings, Squally. How do you plan on making it up to me?”

Squall sighed. “What do you want?”

Seifer smirked, his eyes glittering with malice. “You and I. A sparring match. Right now.”

“I’m busy. Go bother somebody else.”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d rather bother you, Squally. So, get off you butt and let’s go. I promise I won’t use magic this time.”

“You said the same thing last time we sparred, and yet you still attacked me with your fire spells,” admonished Squall, incapable of focusing on his magazine because of the distraction provided by Seifer’s presence.

“What are you? Ten? Stop complaining and just come,” urged Seifer as he snatched Squall’s magazine from his hands and threw it behind his shoulder. Squall scowled at him, but Seifer brushed him off. His pupils were dilated. A vein popping on his forehead. Something was definitely bothering him.

Squall crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He had to accept Seifer’s proposal, otherwise he would never be left alone. “I’ll spar with you,” informed Squall, his stare unflinching. “In one condition.”

“Shoot.”

“If I win,” explained Squall, turning the situation to his advantage, “you have to leave me alone during the entire semester.”

Seifer clenched his jaw, anger flashing in his eyes for a split second. Had Squall been too harsh? It wasn’t Seifer’s fault if Squall couldn’t control his emotions around him.

“Okay,” agreed Seifer, pressing his elbow against the table. “But if I win, you have to give me something in return.”

“Fair enough.” Squall stood up and pushed his chair under the table. “You ready?”

Seifer jumped on his feet, his chair flying into the palm tree growing behind the table. “More than you’ll ever be, Squally.” He grabbed his necklace and activated his magic. Hyperion appeared in a cloud of mist, and Seifer seized it before stomping towards the edge of the coffee shop and crossing the magical barrier erected around its perimeter, his gunblade resting on his shoulder.

Squall followed Seifer, relieved that he didn’t appear too upset.

Seifer stopped the moment he reached a small clearing with a tree trunk slumping on the ground and a bridge spanning a stream. A lamp post was stationed close to edge of the jungle, illuminating the entire area with a bright light.

Squall activated his necklace and grabbed his gunblade the second it materialized. He squeezed Lionheart’s handle with both hands, his feet spread apart.

He was ready to fight.

Seifer stared at Squall, a frown wrinkling his eyebrows. “Ready to lose, Squally?”

“Never.” Squall’s heart pounded as hard as Quistis banging on his door at 6 o’clock in the morning. He had always loved sparring with Seifer, which made him question his decision of staying away from him.

Did he make the right call?

Seifer’s stance was wide. His blade tilted. He was about to attack. A vertical slash. Aiming at Squall’s abdomen.

“Too bad for you,” snapped Seifer. “I’m not losing this one.” Seifer waved his gunblade and lunged at Squall who parried the hit with his own weapon. Like he predicted.

The blades clashed, sparks flying.

Maybe Seifer was a little upset with Squall.

Squall kicked Seifer in the stomach, pushing him away. Weaknesses. Right knee. Temper. Theatrical flourishes. However, since Seifer was a friend, Squall never used his weaknesses against him. He had a code of honor, and he never failed to follow it. Instead, he unleashed a series of hits that Seifer blocked with ease.

They were just warming-up anyways.

As Seifer staggered back, Squall slashed his gunblade in his direction. Seifer dodged the attack at the last second, rolling out of harm’s way and casting fira the moment he landed on his knee. Squall deflected the spell with his blade, and the fira landed in a bush scurrying the edge of the clearing.

Before the fire spread any further, Squall casted watera on the flames while jumping behind a tree for protection. “Didn’t you say no magic?”

Seifer shrugged. “Changed my mind.”

Seifer didn’t play by the rules? No problem.

Squall cleared his mind, calling forth his Ice Goddess. _Shiva._ When she heard Squall’s call, Shiva bestowed her abilities upon him, his skin frosting in a blue hue.

His immediate vicinity froze, including his blade.

Squall stepped out of his hiding location, and Seifer’s breath hitched. On multiple occasions, Squall had heard people say that he looked quite fearsome when he summoned his GF’s abilities.

It appeared that even Seifer agreed with them. Squall smirked, pride flickering inside his heart.

Seifer scoffed. “You wanna play hard? Let’s play hard.”

“You started it.”

“So? I’m not the one who’s trying to push you away,” barked Seifer, shaking with rage. “I’m not good enough for you anymore, Ice Princess?”

Squall flinched. He hated this surname, and Seifer knew it. Seifer was pissed at him for wanting to keep a safe distance between them. Heck, if the roles were reversed, Squall would be angry too. He had to repair his mistake. He never meant to hurt him.

Ever.

“I was getting tired of winning all the times,” uttered Squall by way of apology. “So, I gave you an incentive. Don’t disappoint me, Almasy, or I would hate not being able to kick your ass on a regular basis.”

Seifer perked up, a grin creeping over his face.

Apology accepted.

Seifer dashed towards Squall, his gunblade flying high above his left shoulder.

Squall froze the ground, and as Seifer stumbled forward, he created a pillar of ice that sprung from the surface and hit him on the chin. Seifer tripped backward, falling down as Squall’s heartbeat quickened. He was thrilled.

Happy.

Sparring with Seifer had always been his favorite hobby. And he was ready to give it all away?

For what?

To deal with problems on his own? He thought he had learned not to shun his friends when he felt lost and confused. That, this way of operating was never the answer.

No more.

Squall would not make the same mistake again.

However, he still had to solve his issue, and since his initial plan failed, he needed to hatch a new, strategic one that would preferably be a success.

_Assess the situation. Decide._

Seifer kept provoking strange emotions within him, and since he couldn’t keep Seifer away, what was left for him to do?

Discover the origin of these unwanted emotions.

Easier said than done. But if Squall managed to travel to the future to defeat the strongest Sorceress of all times, he could decipher his heart’s messages.

Seifer threw Squall a fierce glare. “Playtime’s over,” he growled, summoning Ifrit’s abilities. The ice underneath Seifer melted as his body changed, his skin turning a deep shade of red and his hair flickering like fire.

Squall swallowed.

Seifer was too handsome for his own good.

Seifer jumped back on his feet, flames erupting from his body. Squall couldn’t keep his eyes away from him. Not because of the threat he posed, but because of the sight he inspired.

Squall finally understood.

He figured out his issue. He was attracted to Seifer.

_Origin discovered._

Squall sighted, relieved. His attraction was probably triggered by the fact he admired Seifer. Trusted him. Knew that Seifer would always have his back, no matter what.

In the end, nothing was wrong with Squall. He was just evolving as a human being.

_Crisis averted._

Squall might have found the problem that was plaguing his mind, but he still had a fight to win. Not that he wanted Seifer out of the portrait. He just loved to prove to him that he was the strongest. And when he won, he’d told Seifer that he changed his mind about the bet, that he had wanted Seifer to buy him a beer from the beginning.

Squall blocked Seifer’s strike, his jaw clenching with the impact. Ifrit and his damn super-strength. They fought with their gunblades for a while, Squall tiring up too quickly in his opinion.

That didn’t look too good.

Seifer was getting the advantage, and Squall wasn’t eager to hear him brag about his victory for days to come. He had to strike back. Change the tide of their duel.

But he couldn’t.

The moment Squall stopped to take a breather, Seifer lifted his hand in the air and summoned Ifrit’s power. Burning rocks materialized above them, and Seifer threw them one by one at Squall. Squall squatted down, and hopped in all directions to avoid being smashed to the ground.

“Need a break?” asked Seifer, his tone of voice mischievous. He casted firaga, and as the spell burst into life, Squall jumped in the flames, slashing his gunblade at Seifer. Seifer had been too shock by Squall’s boldness to move or block the hit. He should know by now that Squall Leonhart never gave up without a fight.

“Need a cura?” asked Squall, smugness lingering in his expression. He pointed at the cut he made on Seifer’s arm, droplets of blood smeared across the torn fabric of his shirt.

Seifer clicked his tongue. “You owe me another shirt.”

“I owe you nothing.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.” Seifer straightened his body and unleashed one attack after another, the muscles in his arms bulking every time he moved his gunblade. His skin was glistening with sweat, and thanks to Ifrit’s abilities, it also sparkled like a precious gem.

Squall’s precious gem. Blinding him.

Mesmerizing him.

Seifer knocked Squall on the ground, waking him up from his daydreaming. His strong body loomed over Squall’s frame, smirking as he pressed his blade against his neck. “I win.”

Squall stared at Seifer, his heart beating faster than Zell throwing punches.

Wait.

Did Seifer just defeat him? Hyne!

“Big deal,” mused Squall, pushing the blade aside. Squall hated to lose. He got into a seating position, one leg stretched and the other bending at the knee. He couldn’t believe that he got distracted enough to lose track of the fight. “What do you want?” he grunted, cutting the connexion with Shiva and turning Lionheart back into a necklace. What would Seifer ask him to do? Write all of his unfinished reports?

Hyne, he hoped not.

Seifer was pacing along the edge of the jungle. Thinking. He could never stand still when he was pondering over a matter. Too strenuous for him and his brains? Squall better not share this thought with him, otherwise he would never live to see another day. Seifer waved his blade at a thick bush while he regained his normal appearance, Ifrit’s abilities vanishing. “I know,” he cheered, thrusting his gunblade into the earth, crossing his arms, and leaning his body against his weapon. “I want a kiss.”

Squall flinched. “What?!”

As an answer, Seifer’s grin grew wider. “I want you to give me a kiss, a real one. Right here,” he explained, tapping his index finger on his lips.

Squall’s heart stopped. Seifer wanted Squall to kiss him? A real kiss?! The only person he ever kissed was Rinoa, and he was positive that he sucked at it. Why would Seifer want a kiss from him? To witness his lack of experience and mock him afterward?

“Fine,” Squall mumbled. A deal was a deal, and Squall never went back on his words or backed down from a challenge. The proof, he traveled through time to defeat the strongest Sorceress in the world. How difficult could kissing Seifer be compared to this exploit?

Squall ambled towards Seifer, his fists squeezed tight.

“No need to rush, Ice Princess,” taunted Seifer. “I’ve got all night long.”

Squall ignored Seifer’s comment, instead focusing on his task at hand. It was only one kiss. He simply had to brush his lips against Seifer’s. That was it. Easy as casting a scan spell. Squall could do this with his eyes closed. Actually, it was recommended that both parties kept their eyes closed during the process.

Or was it the opposite?

No wonder Squall failed at the whole dating game.

Squall landed in front of Seifer, his entire body shaking like a loose screw. In the jungle, monster replicas growled, animals howled. Despite the dangers lurking nearby, Squall could only focus on Seifer’s lips.

Glossy and plump.

Squall tilted his head back, Seifer being a little taller than him. Squall used to hate being smaller than his rival, but as he stood closer to Seifer, he realized that he enjoyed fitting into his arms. He rested his hand against Seifer’s smooth cheek, rubbing his thumb over his lips. Seifer’s gaze turned soft, and a shiver ran through Squall.

He never saw Seifer appear as vulnerable as in this moment, and Squall reveled in their sudden intimacy. Seifer leaned into the touch, grabbing Squall’s hips. Squall sucked in a breath before shortening the distance between them and brushing his lips against Seifer’s. Should he deepen the kiss or keep the touch soft?

Squall was lost and confused. 

But mostly, he was feverish.

Seifer growled, showing signs of impatience. Before Squall took the next step, Seifer pressed his mouth against Squall’s lips and kissed him like the world was on fire. And it might have been, knowing Seifer and his tendency to cast fire spells left and right.

This time, however, Squall didn’t think of casting a watera.

He didn’t think at all.

Seifer kept kissing Squall without stopping or slowing down. He didn’t even flinch when a Turtapod spun passed them, only casting a firaga at the monster replica while keeping his focus, and especially his lips, on Squall at all times. Before tonight, Squall had never been kissed with such passion. Rinoa’s kisses had been wet and awkward. Kissing Seifer, on the other hand, was…

Mind-blowing.

_Crisis not averted. Need backup A.S.A.P._

Squall grabbed a tuft of Seifer’s hair and squeezed it as tight as if he was holding on to a safety rope. Seifer whimpered in his mouth, and Squall’s stomach knotted.

He enjoyed every push. Every pulsation.

After Squall twirled his finger around a strand of blond hair, he pulled hard enough for Seifer’s head to tilt back, exposing the skin of his neck. Squall brushed his mouth against Seifer’s neck, his stubble scratching his lips.

Lips that were now throbbing with pain and pleasure.

He wanted to explore every inch of Seifer’s skin the same way he traveled around the world. Without leaving any rock unturned. Any sensation forgotten.

What would Seifer do if Squall bit the mount of his nose or if he licked the peck of his chin?

Squall shivered as if he had been stranded naked in the coldness of Trabia forest for hours. Kissing Seifer was turning his world upside-down, awakening within him lost desires.

Seifer stopped the kiss and pushed Squall hard enough for him to stumble a few steps backward. Did Squall push his exploration too far, stumbling onto a wild beast hiding behind a peck on the neck?

Seifer grabbed him by the collar, and Squall slammed his eyes shut.

Would Seifer punch him?

Squall remained immobile, abdicating. He didn’t want to fight anymore, not when he discovered something far better to do with Seifer than sparring.

Seifer smashed Squall against a solid tree trunk. Squall’s breath left his body as the taste of copped lingered in his mouth. Kissing Seifer was as dangerous as fighting him. Squall’s smirk didn’t even reach its peak that Seifer plastered his mouth against his, kissing him like he was lacking oxygen.

Squall’s legs were wobbling, his body shivering. However, it was only after he moaned Seifer’s name between kisses that the sudden realization hit him like a thunder spell.

Squall wasn’t just in admiration with Seifer. He was in love with the guy.

Hyne be damned! _That_ was a problem.

Seifer pressed a series of wet kisses along his neck, and Squall’s brain shut off. He uttered a cry of pleasure, and he felt Seifer smile against his skin.

He had to do something about these feelings. But what?

Usually, he would devise a strategic plan to tackle the issue. However, how could he accomplish such feats when an intangible concept like emotions were involved? Should he bottled up his feelings, hoping they would go away? It never worked in the past, thus he doubted this method would succeed in the present.

It would come back to bite him in the ass, and Squall preferred to keep his ass intact.

Seifer nibbled Squall’s ear, and his knees buckled. He hung on to Seifer, his desire to find a solution stronger than Bahamut’s Mega-Flare attack. What if Squall confess his feelings to Seifer? Worst case scenario, Seifer would beat him up. Been there, done that. Seifer could mock him, but again, Seifer was mocking him on a daily basis.

Seifer thrust his tongue inside Squall’s mouth, rendering him as dizzy as if he had been hit with a confusion spell.

However, there was the possibility of Seifer ignoring him. Would he, though, after asking Squall for a kiss? What if Seifer actually liked Squall too?

Squall’s heart skipped a beat.

He had commanded troops and won a war. He could certainly ask Seifer out on a date.

Right?

_Strategize. Initiate._

Squall’s mind illuminated with an idea. A plan that was both bold and cunning. He would turn Seifer’s idea against him. He stopped the kiss, a hand pressed against Seifer’s chest to push him away. 

Seifer grunted, his eyes still close.

“How about another deal?” suggested Squall, breathless.

Seifer blinked open his eyes and arched one eyebrow. His curiosity was piqued. Seifer’s swollen lips glistened in a red color, and Squall assumed his lips were looking quite similar.

It was just one heck of a kiss.

The best one he ever had. And hopefully, not the last.

“What do you have in mind?” rasped Seifer, rubbing his hand against Squall’s stomach and staring at him with hungry eyes.

“Another duel.”

“Oh yeah? Hated to lose the first one, huh?”

Squall smirked. “This time, if I win, I want to go on a date. With you.”

Seifer’s face illuminated, a sly grin creeping over his face. He clenched his chest, stumbling a few steps backward as he pretended to be in pain. “You’re too strong for me, Commander Leonhart.”

Squall rolled his eyes, unable to stop the smile dawning on his lips.

Seifer dropped down on his back, arms and legs spread wide. For too long, he remained immobile, thus Squall pressed his foot against Seifer’s leg and shook it. “Seifer?”

Seifer propped himself on his elbows, flashing a bright smile at Squall. Not a grin or a smirk. A genuine smile that sent his heartbeat into a frantic beating. “You win,” declared Seifer. “How about tomorrow?”

Squall nodded, trepidation coursing through his veins. “Don’t be late,” he warned, “or I’ll leave you behind.”

“You can threaten me as much as you like, Squally, but we both know that you’ll wait for me. You always have.”

Squall scoffed. The worst part of it, he was right. “Whatever.”

Seifer hopped on his feet and dragged Squall towards the exit, one arm rolled around his shoulders. “Who would have thought that my Ice Princess was actually a good kisser,” admitted Seifer as he bestowed a sly wink on Squall whose stomach flipped at the gesture.

How the heck did he not know he was madly in love with Seifer?!

As they crossed a bridge, an Elnoyle launched a surprise attack on the duo. Seifer dashed towards the monster replica, calling forth his gunblade before unleashing a series of hit. “Come on Squally!” shouted Seifer, casting a firaga at the Elnoyle. “Don’t make me do all the hard work by myself.”

Squall snorted.

No matter where Seifer went, Squall would always follow. And that certitude made him happy.

Complete.

“I thought you were strong enough to defeat an Elnoyle on your own,” retorted Squall, pretending to be disappointed. “You’re losing your touch, Almasy.”

Seifer whined. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done, huh?”

And Squall joined Seifer and gave him an helping hand in defeating the monster replica. Because, Squall was never meant to walk his path alone. He was always supposed to stand by Seifer’s side.

To spend his life with him.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you read? Follow me on Twitter @vecrossfiction to get updates on my work in progress and other fangirling things.


End file.
